The Defense of Minds
Title: The Defense of Minds
Author: Nakimochiku
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters/Pairings: Jim Moriarty/ John Watson
Warnings: implied torture
Rating: PG-13
Summary: John knows the effects of Stockholm Syndrome.
Note: Because i need this couple like i need air. they are disturbing and wonderful and everyone should love them and their sheer madness together.
John knows the effects of Stockholm Syndrome, knows the causes, knows how victims feel, because he’s seen it. Has seen how “kindness” and fear can unravel a mind. But knowing doesn’t protect him from it. Not really. Not even a little. In the scant hours he’s sometimes able to think, he considers that Moriarty won’t stop until John is driven desperately insane.
When Moriarty wants to, he sounds soft and sweet and loving. He sounds affectionate and caring, his hands gentle and soothing, like he’s genuinely concerned, and it throws John for a loop every damn time. He falls for it every damn time, because it’s a break from the pain.
“Oh, little pet. Don’t you know I don’t like having to hurt you?” Moriarty sighs, just this side of condescending, stroking his hair like he’s a dog. John can’t help it. He leans into his touch, enjoys the soft fingertips across the curve of his jaw, tracing the corner of his mouth as his hand explores his face, before finally cupping his cheek. The sound he makes in response is somewhere between and whimper and a breath of relief.
He knows he should stop. Should fight. But everything hurts from fighting, and if not fighting means Moriarty will stop, just stop, then John won’t fight. He doesn’t have the energy left. He wants to berate himself, but he doesn’t even have the energy for that.
“I’ve got a game for us to play, darling.” Moriarty suggests jovially, kissing John’s temple as he moves behind him, trailing gentle fingers across the expanse of his shoulders, careful not to touch any bruises. Somehow that makes John grateful, like Moriarty cares, even though he knows he’s deluding himself.
“Let’s pretend like we’re in love.” he whispers, and John just nods, ready and willing, so willing to give in as long as Moriarty is kind to him. As long as the pain recedes, just for a while. “Good boy.”
John knows the effects pf Stockholm Syndrome. And he hopes to god he won’t be so dependant on this madman if, when, this is all over.
Author: Nakimochiku
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters/Pairings: Jim Moriarty/ John Watson
Warnings: implied torture
Rating: PG-13
Summary: John knows the effects of Stockholm Syndrome.
Note: Because i need this couple like i need air. they are disturbing and wonderful and everyone should love them and their sheer madness together.
John knows the effects of Stockholm Syndrome, knows the causes, knows how victims feel, because he’s seen it. Has seen how “kindness” and fear can unravel a mind. But knowing doesn’t protect him from it. Not really. Not even a little. In the scant hours he’s sometimes able to think, he considers that Moriarty won’t stop until John is driven desperately insane.
When Moriarty wants to, he sounds soft and sweet and loving. He sounds affectionate and caring, his hands gentle and soothing, like he’s genuinely concerned, and it throws John for a loop every damn time. He falls for it every damn time, because it’s a break from the pain.
“Oh, little pet. Don’t you know I don’t like having to hurt you?” Moriarty sighs, just this side of condescending, stroking his hair like he’s a dog. John can’t help it. He leans into his touch, enjoys the soft fingertips across the curve of his jaw, tracing the corner of his mouth as his hand explores his face, before finally cupping his cheek. The sound he makes in response is somewhere between and whimper and a breath of relief.
He knows he should stop. Should fight. But everything hurts from fighting, and if not fighting means Moriarty will stop, just stop, then John won’t fight. He doesn’t have the energy left. He wants to berate himself, but he doesn’t even have the energy for that.
“I’ve got a game for us to play, darling.” Moriarty suggests jovially, kissing John’s temple as he moves behind him, trailing gentle fingers across the expanse of his shoulders, careful not to touch any bruises. Somehow that makes John grateful, like Moriarty cares, even though he knows he’s deluding himself.
“Let’s pretend like we’re in love.” he whispers, and John just nods, ready and willing, so willing to give in as long as Moriarty is kind to him. As long as the pain recedes, just for a while. “Good boy.”
John knows the effects pf Stockholm Syndrome. And he hopes to god he won’t be so dependant on this madman if, when, this is all over.